


Absence

by somekindofgnome



Series: Kinktober 2020 [21]
Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, and a very bored reader, there's a shitty motel room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindofgnome/pseuds/somekindofgnome
Summary: “I miss you, baby,” he grunts. “It’s jus’ not the same, goin’ to bed without you.”“I know,” you croon back.“What would you do,” you ask before the implication catches up with you, “if I was still there?”You're away on your first solo mission. It's not exactly going according to plan, so you have some free time to call home.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Kinktober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946362
Kudos: 89





	Absence

You push open the bathroom door and a cloud of shower steam rolls out with you. The exhaust fan’s gone to shit in that shoebox of a bathroom. You should’ve guessed, based on how badly the paint is peeling in there.

The room is about as shitty as they come. But you’re so goddamned tired, you could sleep in a gutter.

This is _far_ better than a gutter.

The springs creak beneath your weight as you flop onto the turned-down bed, hauling your phone above your face. Bucky’s been texting you. You haven’t seen a thing- haven’t even _looked_ at your phone in the last twenty-four hours.

This mission is running you ragged.

It’s your first solo gig, and as thrilled as you are to take on this responsibility, you’re not thrilled to be holing up in some double-digit motel in a drive-through town in the middle of nowhere. Especially since the last few days haven’t come close to bringing you any real action.

There are a couple messages on your phone, but most of them are at least a few hours old. You scroll idly through and reply to a few of them, making a mental note to get back to the others.

But you’re thinking about something else.

It feels like you’re settling in for the first time since you arrived. You have a few open hours ahead of you before you _know_ you need to get to bed. You consider flipping on the T.V. but surfing whatever local channels this place’s shitty cable service will have doesn’t exactly appeal.

Not when you’ve got something _far_ more exciting lined up at your fingertips.

You think about texting him first, but it’s the same time there as it is here and if you know him like you think you do, Bucky’s sprawled out in bed with his own T.V. on and wishing he had something better to do.

The perfect moment for a spontaneous call.

You scroll indulgently to his contact and press the ‘call’ button, lifting the phone to your ear. It rings a few times before he answers.

“Hey.”

His voice is gruff, and you can hear the way he shifts a little as he inevitably props himself on one elbow.

“Hey, hot stuff,” you croon into the phone, adopting your favourite playful-sexy voice. “What’re you wearing right now?”

He chuckles. _God,_ you miss that chuckle. You miss laying on his chest and making him laugh, just to feel the vibration of it beneath you.

“Let’s see,” he rumbles in your ear. “Short skirt, thigh-high socks, and those lacy panties you love _so-“_

_“Very funny,”_ you quip, smirking to yourself. You roll onto your side, curling up to the sound of his voice. Hearing him when you can’t be there only makes you miss him more.

“I take it things aren’t happening very fast over there.”

“They’re not happening at _all,”_ you reply. “I spent all day squatting in the trees. Nothing. Not a _peep.”_

“Damn,” he sighs. “It does turn out that way sometimes. I sure hope Steve didn’t send you on a dead trail for your first solo gig.”

“When I left, I honestly hoped it _would_ turn out that way. But now I’m so bored I could die.”

“Anything I can do to entertain you?”

You grin indulgently.

“You could tell me what you’re _actually_ wearing.”

He laughs again. You want to curl your body around the phone and hug it tightly to your chest when he does that. Like you can pretend that some vestige of him will feel how tightly you wish you could be holding him.

“I miss you, baby,” he grunts. “It’s jus’ not the same, goin’ to bed without you.”

“I know,” you croon back.

“What would you do,” you ask before the implication catches up with you, “if I was still there?”

You can hear him hesitate. He trips quietly over his voice, stammering for a moment.

“Well-I…I’m not sure,” he mumbles thoughtfully. “Kiss you, I guess.”

“Where?” Your heart flutters. You’re not ready to admit it, but you’re desperate. This sort of thing’s never _really_ been on the menu before. Sometimes his texts get a little flirty, but… never over the _phone._

“Your lips,” he drawls, and you wonder if he’s clued in yet. “Your cheeks. I’d kiss your neck a little, if you’re not too sleepy already.”

“I’m not,” you press. “Not too sleepy. What’s next?”

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’re grinning like an _asshole,_ but this is the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Baby, what-“

“Just keep _talking,”_ you breeze, letting your eyes fall shut. He misses you, so he plays along.

“You know how it goes,” he continues. “Kiss on your neck a little. Maybe stop at your collarbone. Pull down your shirt a little, so I can touch your pretty…”

He trails off. Your cheeks are warm. You can’t imagine how red he must be right now. Scratch that. You can. He’s _maroon._ You adore the thought of it.

“Uh-huh,” you prompt. You slip your palm under your shirt, sliding it through the heat that your t-shirt traps against your shower-warmed skin.

“I’d get my mouth on you,” he growls, deeper now. “Right between your thighs, sweetness. God, I can’t wait to taste you again.”

There’s a strange sort of tightness to his voice. But you’re right there behind him, slipping your fingers into your pajamas and stroking over the swell of your warming folds.

“Eat you out nice and slow,” he continues. You don’t even have to egg him on anymore. You cradle the phone between your ear and the pillow, losing yourself in the baritone of his loving voice.

“Keep going,” you rasp at some point. You know how to touch yourself like _clockwork,_ and you’re working yourself carefully, imagining it’s _his_ coarse hands, _his_ tongue, his body over yours.

“I’d fuck you _so_ good if I was over there right now,” he snarls. “Fuck you ‘till you can’t walk, baby. The second you get home, I’m gonna have you.”

“Bucky,” you warn, low and tight. “ _Baby,_ don’t stop.”

“That’s it,” he urges. “That’s right. Imagine taking my cock, sweetness. Take it all for me. _Fuck,_ I can’t hold out. Take my cum, baby, take my whole goddamn load-“

His voice breaks, just as your own climax hits you and you ride it _hard._ It’s nothing like the edges he’s been able to bring you to, but it’s relief, and when you resurface you can hear him panting softly into the receiver.

“Did you just…?” You trail off, lifting your heavy head.

“Yeah,” he croaks, still breathless. “Yeah, _shit._ Wish you could see what a mess you made ‘a me.”

You lick your lips, sighing deep to calm your still-racing heart.

“Well,” you offer. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Just before you hang up, he’s laughing in your ear all over again. And you’re melting right through the phone all over again, too.

“Baby,” he croons, with all the love in the world lacing his voice, “you got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say about this one. Today’s prompt was “Phone Sex,” and, well, phone sex is phone sex is phone sex. 
> 
> Except when it’s with Bucky.


End file.
